Covet the Night, page 18
He ran his eyes over Gwen for what must have been the hundredth time in the span of a minute.
She looked gorgeous. Every angle of her was in sharp definition, thanks to the somewhat snug fit of her outfit. William was amused to watch her struggle for some measure of composure without her pack of harpies. Eyes wide, chest heaving and falling a touch too fast, and trying like hell not to glare at the lot of them. Her body language was a mixture of anxiety and irritation, but she kept a pleasant face on with admirable determination.
Gwen's eyes skirted between the small grouping of vampyrés. They stared at her expectantly, and she couldn't shake the notion that they all knew something she didn't. Perhaps it was Ruby's pill causing her paranoia.
"Congratulations," Gwen offered, at last, ending the deafening silence growing between them. She rocked back a step; a starch smile stretched over her lips. Internally, she heaved a sigh of relief that Ruby's hand was no longer there to keep her prisoner. "I better get back to my sisters—"
"Stay awhile," Ruby insisted, snagging her hand. "I felt we made a unique connection earlier."
Gwen cleared her throat, her brown eyes chasing between Ruby and Nova with uncertainty. "I don't really…." She paused, working fast to rearrange her words as Ruby's thumb brushed over her knuckles "That is to say, I'm not… you know." A cringe-worthy laugh stumbled out of Gwen's mouth as she tried in vain to retrieve her hand.
"Oh, I know." Ruby smiled brilliantly as she stepped into Gwen's personal space. "What I meant to convey was that it's not every day I find myself giving out little doses of medicine meant for supernaturals to help a human. I thought you might want to do something for me in return for my generosity."
Fuck. Play it cool, Gwen instructed herself vehemently, keeping her smile up by sheer force of will.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Dinner," Ruby said succinctly. Gwen balked and ripped her hand from Ruby's. "Oh, you're not on the menu! Don't worry."
The young-looking vampyré appeared embarrassed. Her cheeks lightly colored, and her mouth floundered for something else to say. Nova snickered and gently elbowed Ruby in the side.
"She's inviting you to go to dinner," Nova clarified, as if Ruby's invitation still wasn't clear enough. Gwen supposed her stupefied expression didn't leave them with the impression that she understood.
"I'll need to check with my sire-to-be." Gwen was proud of her velvet-smooth response. She turned heel with a parting smile and stepped directly into a body. "Laurel." She gulped.
"Pet, Indigo said you were hurt," Laurel cooed as her cool fingers tenderly smoothed Gwen's hair. The emotions burning in her eyes were far different from her touch or words, however. Laying a hand on Gwen's shoulder, Laurel spun her back around to face the Vranas and William. "Whatever happened?" she asked, voice tight and grip tighter.
The Vranas went stone-faced. But not William. His forehead bunched down as he studied Gwen, looking for signs of harm.
"It was the magic." Gwen cast her eyes about the room. The majority of supernaturals had left, and this close to the pit, the scent of blood and magic was ripe. Her stomach churned. At least if she was sick, the audience would be small.
"Valdora's?"
Gwen nodded. "It worked at first, just as it did on the others… until it didn't. Then it was just pain."
"Strange." Jakob studied Gwen far more intently than William. "Why should her magic affect you differently?"
Laurel and Gwen kept silent.
"She wasn't the only one who experienced pain."
The voice came from the bronze-skinned Indian man, the hybrid who’d saved William's life, Deval. He stood behind Irina; a full head taller than her.
"Do explain," Laurel requested, though said request held the distinct notes of an order.
"There were a handful of others across the crowd who seemed to suffer as well, a shifter and a couple of vampyrés. Granted, the latter rather relished the pain, come to think of it." Deval's shoulders hiked up briefly. "Valdora's magic couldn't hold for everyone."
His flippant answer made Laurel scoff.
"Well, that's no surprise. Valdora's outdone herself again, and now my soon-to-be childe has paid the price of her lofty aspirations." Laurel drummed her fingers against Gwen's skin. "Well, we won't keep you any longer. Congratulations, Beast, on a rousing victory. Watching you fight so passionately always leaves one breathless."
"Before you leave," Ruby piped up as they began to retreat. "We just extended an invitation to Gwen to have dinner with our family. She said she would need your permission to attend." The open-ended sentence lingered for an uncomfortable amount of time.
"When?"
"Two nights’ time," Irina supplied, smiling demurely at Laurel. Her copper eyes glinted with the challenge. "Unless her schedule is too full."
Laurel smirked. "She may go, but don't keep her out late. Her initiation continues the following night, and I want her well-rested. You understand."
"Wonderful."
The two women smiled harshly at one another, and then Laurel led Gwen away.
"Why did you say yes?" Gwen asked as they hit the staircase.
Laurel glanced at Gwen. The stoic and somewhat severe expression on her face fell gradually to showcase a smug quirk of her lips. "Because the Vranas have offered us a golden opportunity to exact a bit of revenge, and you, my darling pet, will be our Trojan horse."
Gwen tried not to dwell on the upcoming dinner with the Vranas in the nights leading up to it. For the most part, it worked, as she spent the majority of her time with the other initiates. They shared knowledge of the court and supernaturals within it as well as getting to know each other better—at least as much as they could. Everyone, including herself, preferred to keep their pasts close to their chests. Whenever topic trod too far back, tight-lipped smiles were exchanged, and they hustled the conversation back to neutral ground, such as assumptions about the next test, the tragic story of Hugo and Jasmine, and the sorcerer clan that attacked the Cellar Bar and killed—
Gwen exhaled sharply. She would not dwell on the fallen.
She was trying her utmost to belong to the sisterhood by following their rules and standards, and that meant forgetting you-know-who. But more than that, she wanted to prove her worth and show them she could be depended on. Not just to Laurel and her sister line but to the entire sisterhood. Sometimes though, her thoughts drifted to places she knew they shouldn't.
Like how their class of initiates had begun at five and would end with four.
Or that the callous talk she overheard in the Grand Salon still put her on edge.
And William. It was becoming exceptionally annoying how easily her mind drifted to him.
What about the sunlight ring? A quiet voice in the back of her head reminded her, but Gwen stoutly refused to forget he planned to kill her first.
She curled her hands into fists. And did he really think her so stupid as to give up her one chance at life for his pretty lies? He only wanted an in with the Roux for whatever cause he was campaigning for in the court. She was simply… collateral.
Catching her frowning face in the vanity mirror, Gwen relaxed her features with a small wince and finished applying her lipstick. Off to the side, Laurel was wrapping up her conversation with Violet. Gwen hoped they hadn't caught her slipping into darker thoughts, or worse, seen her wincing at the simple act.
This morning she had another nosebleed, much longer than the ones at the fight, not to mention the reddish purple rash running near her spine. The tincture had officially run its course, and she felt weak. Gwen wasn't sure how she was going to survive the Vranas’ dinner with nobody the wiser to her condition, but she had to. Failure to play the part was not an option. She couldn't let Laurel down, the sisterhood, or herself.
She rolled her shoulders back one at a time to right her posture.
She could do this.
"How are you feeling, pet?"
Laurel cupped Gwen's neck. Her cold fingers rubbed soft circles up its length. With a grateful sigh, Gwen leaned into the touch. Violet was gone now, and they were alone.
"Awful." Even with the herbal, nonmagical cream Laurel had given her for the lingering aftereffects of mixing magic, a dull ache permeated her body. On the bright side, she smelled like fresh spearmint.
Laurel cooed sympathetically, then reached into the pocket of her skirt and produced an opaque green crystal vial. It was an exact duplicate of the tincture Gwen took one week prior, with its bulbous body and pinpoint end, and, of course, the milky iridescent substance inside. She itched to reach out to snatch it from Laurel's hand but remembered all too well her reprimand.
"You can have it," Laurel said, "after your dinner with the Vranas."
Gwen's face fell. Every nuanced ache and point of fatigue amplified at Laurel's announcement. She swallowed thickly as tears threatened to gather and spill down her cheeks. "Why?"
"Oh, no, no, my dear pet. Don't cry." Laurel dropped to her knees in front of Gwen as she sniffed back her tears. "You must remember what's mine is yours, and what's yours is mine. Such sentiment makes the sisterhood stronger, and it's why I'm tasking you with a responsibility that is not only dear to my heart but the sisterhood as well.
"I don't understand."
"Do you recall our talk after the fight? That you would be our Trojan horse?" Gwen nodded reluctantly. Laurel smiled wide. "Simply find a way to put this"—Laurel retrieved a second, smaller vial from her pocket, the glass clear and containing a liquid that could have been water for all Gwen knew—"into Briar's food or drink during your time with the Vranas. That's it. And then you may return as quick as can be. Claim a headache or some other ailment, all right? Once you return, you shall have your tincture, and all will be well for tomorrow's test. You can do this for me and the sisterhood, can't you?"
Gwen hesitated, wetting her lips.
Laurel's eyes narrowed.
"What's mine must be yours, Gwendolyn. This vendetta is not to be taken lightly, and your success will earn you regard among your soon-to-be sisters should you fail in other areas, do you understand?"
Steeling herself, Gwen nodded.
Laurel put the small vial in her hand.
It was a short walk to the Vranas’ suite, considering the Roux and Delacroix all claimed a corner of the topmost floors of the Dark Court to call their own. Gwen's entire sister line escorted her to their front door.
"Don't let their charm fool you," Hazel said, coming up to her side and placing a kiss on her cheek. "They're not to be trusted."
Lily took Hazel’s place once she left. "Let no secret of ours pass your tongue, Gwendolyn. Use it only to beguile and rile them up." Another cold kiss pressed against her cheek, followed by another sister standing at her side. This time it was Poppy.
"Remember who you are and the name you bear."
Her kiss was no more than a whisper on Gwen’s flesh before Poppy departed with vampyric speed, rousing the curled ends of Gwen's hair to tousle back.
Gwen glanced back when the click-click-click of heels announced the next sister: Violet. Her eyes did not stray to Gwen's. In fact, they never left the gaudy raven knocker at the center of the Vranas’ door.
"Make us proud. Semper Paratus," Violet said.
"Semper Paratus."
Violet's knuckles drifted over the spot the others had placed their kisses and then vanished in a blur.
Gwen looked to Laurel, who stood nearby, her expression painted in fondness.
"You can do this, Gwen. I believe in you."
Gwen smiled wanly back and was confronted with a look of disapproval. Right, one doesn’t cross over into enemy territory wearing their weakness so blatantly. She'd endured worse pain in her life than this, both physically and mentally. Get it together.
Tipping her chin up and casting her shoulders back, she eyed the door and knocked. Laurel was gone before it opened a few seconds later.
"Splendid! You're right on time! Come in, come in!" Ruby's dress tinkled pleasantly as she waved Gwen inside. She wore a beaded flapper dress with her short hair styled in finger waves.
Heat licked up Gwen's skin as she entered. Her eyes immediately went to the roaring fireplace opposite the front door before taking everything in. Their entryway was much shorter than the Roux's, opening in three different directions: directly ahead, a room off to the left, and a hallway to the right. The walls were a lovely warm cream with accents of navy and black. Gwen liked its modern flare.
"Follow me."
Ruby went left, leading Gwen into a large dining room. Its board-and-batten walls were a rich black that made the oversized painting of what Gwen thought to be an abstract blizzard look especially vibrant. Jakob and Irina were already seated at the massive table, with Jakob at its head and Irina to his right. Gwen counted the remaining seats available: ten.
"You're right here." Ruby gestured to the second seat on the left side of the table. "Would you like something to drink? Wine? A martini? Champagne—oh, we have the most lovely Krug Grandé Cuvee Brut that is just—" Ruby gave a chef's kiss to the air and made a noise of supreme appreciation. "—perfection."
"I'll take perfection." Gwen sat as Ruby zipped off to retrieve the champagne. She made a meager attempt to scoot her chair in, but it was either extraordinarily heavy, or her cancerous body couldn't manage the weight. Gwen flushed.
"Allow me."
She wasn't familiar with the masculine voice, but having met only Jakob and Deval thus far, she knew it must belong to Sebastian or Jax. And since Jax was notably absent from court, that meant her savior was the former. Sebastian was Jakob's first childe and, after further explanation by Laurel, one of the main catalysts of her task.
Sebastian pushed Gwen's seat in until only a few inches lay between her and the dark walnut table. She thanked him, then Ruby, who returned with the coveted champagne.
"Well, aren't you the gentleman tonight," Ruby commented as Sebastian stepped away from Gwen's chair and walked down to the end of the table. He sat at Jakob's left and grinned back at his sister. Despite the Roux's utter disdain and loathing for the man, Gwen thought him quite handsome in a bookish sort of way with his wavy brunette hair and brown eyes.
"Name a time when I haven't been."
A twinkle took up residence in Ruby's eye as she made her way around the table to the seat next to Irina. "Oh, I can think of plenty, but are you sure you want your paramour to hear them?"
"Oh, I've heard them all by now, I'm sure," came a silky voice.
Goose bumps erupted over Gwen's arms as she reached for her champagne. As the delicate glass came to her lips and she sipped, she cast her gaze to the disowned and disgraced Roux sister she was to poison: Sebastian's lover, Briar. She was walking sex in a liquid black dress that left nothing to the imagination. Her red hair fell in luxurious waves that would make Liv salivate, and she owned a smile that could stop an army with one gracious turn of her lips.
What had they said about the Cassia line from which Briar hailed? The line Becca was destined to belong to? Sanguine. Gwen's eyes shut briefly as a rush of breath left her. That's why Becca must be fearful of becoming a sanguinare, because her sister line is intimately connected with the name.
"Hello, little sister," Briar murmured just loud enough for Gwen to hear as she walked past.
Gwen set her champagne flute down and stared coldly at the empty seat across from her. "I am not your sister."
The casual vehemence raised an eyebrow or two. Gwen caught the looks out of the corner of her eye. With a more blatant side glance, she spotted the flat line of Briar's lips as Sebastian pulled out her seat for her, leaving one seat open between the two redheads.
"I'm not late, am I?"
All eyes turned to the front of the dining room as Deval made his hasty entrance.
"Not at all," Irina answered and inclined her head toward his seat. "Sit."
Deval took the empty seat next to Gwen and offered a pearly smile as he reached for the glass of blood next to his plate.
"At least I'm not the last," he said and took a drink. Gwen stared, unabashed, as his eyes turned pure vampyric silver. He sent her a wink, and she blushed. "What a lovely perfume you have on. It's very… refreshing."
Gwen rolled her eyes as she muttered a thank you, reaching absently for her drink. Her fingertips bumped into the glass, but not even her hasty correction could save it after she spotted the figure standing in the entryway. The glass made a pretty tinkling noise as it shattered.
"What are you doing here?"
Nova and William stopped their idle small talk and eyed Gwen with growing smirks. Nova laughed and shook her head before taking a seat next to Ruby. Gwen dragged her eyes back to the empty seat across from her and groaned internally. On the outside, she dropped all pretense of emotion from her face.
"Ruby, might I have another glass of the Krug?" Gwen asked.
"Of course, dear. I'll send Effie to clean up this mess and fetch you a new glass."
Before Ruby could bustle off, Nova caught her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. Ruby glowed at the small affection and zipped off.
"I suppose this is my seat, then," William said to no one in particular and sat across from Gwen.
Gwen bit down on her tongue as she sucked her cheeks in. She cast her gaze aside, counting to ten to regain her composure.
A minute later, a woman arrived dressed in black, her hair swept up out of her face, and quickly cleaned away Gwen's mess. Ruby returned not long after, pressing a new glass of champagne into Gwen's hand.
"The appetizers, if you please, Effie," Irina said.
Moments later, Effie returned with three others carrying small white plates, save one, who balanced an extra for their odd numbers.
"Beef tartar for our delightfully human guest, with quail egg and point toast, and a thoroughly marinated, thinly sliced tartar for the rest of us."
Gwen's mouth watered as she took up her fork and knife like everyone else. A short glance at Deval's plate confirmed that “thoroughly marinated" meant drenched in blood. The metallic scent tinged the air.
